


Saccharine

by crimsonheart01



Series: Assorted SOA One-Shots & Imagines [23]
Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: F/M, Tattoos, tattoo artist - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 22:56:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11746911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonheart01/pseuds/crimsonheart01
Summary: Long after high school, you decide to get a tattoo and are reunited with Happy Lowman, unexpectedly.





	Saccharine

**Author's Note:**

> Written for: [xxmooseoncrackxx](https://xxmooseoncrackxx.tumblr.com/)  
> Playlist: [Pour Some Sugar On Me - Def Leppard](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AQ4xwmZ6zi4)  
>  **Find Me On:** [Tumblr](https://crimsonheart01.tumblr.com/), [Wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/user/crimsonheart01)or [FFN](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/6033058/crimsonheart01)

Happy Lowman. That was a name you’d always known. He was the boy from around the way. The one who’s mom was widowed. The one who was always getting into trouble. The one who every other parent warned their kids from hanging out with. The one that all the parents spoke in hushed tones about. _His poor mother. That woman is doing her best. Working those long nights._ By the time you entered middle school, all your girlfriends were fawning all over him. Every girl in the school was scared of him, but that didn’t stop them from having him star in their dreams every night. Oh the joy of adolescent hormones. You were always too focused on your school work to really put any stock into the kid from around the corner. He was also two years ahead of you. You weren’t even vaguely interested.

It wasn’t until you started high school that you had your very first encounter with him. The VP had asked you to do her a favour. They said there was a student who was in desperate need of tutoring. A student who was about to fail out of school all together. Eager to please your new administration – _and be able to add a few extra lines to your resume_ – you agreed with no questions asked. Boy, was that a mistake. If you’d known they were asking you to tutor the already tatted up bad boy, you’d have run the other direction.

Luckily for you, he was actually smart. He just didn’t care for school so didn’t apply himself. You spent an entire semester trying to get him to raise his grades but he wasn’t interested. He passed every assignment you had him do with flying colours but would leave his actual school work blank. After not having any progress with him, the school’s administration informed you that you didn’t need to waste anymore of your time. Unbeknownst to him, you fought against their decision. You didn’t want the school to give up on him. You tried to continue to tutor him, but once he found out that the school wasn’t forcing it anymore he stopped showing up. You pestered him for weeks, attempting to make him take his schooling serious. When it became obvious that he didn’t care, you eventually forgot about him.  That was the last time you’d heard any mention of him…

**~(SOA)~**

_…until you walked into a tattoo parlour, on a shady downtown street in Tacoma, Washington…._

**~(SOA)~**

You stayed in Seattle after graduating from University. You weren’t interested in moving back to your small town in Cali and your parents really didn’t need a boarder. You spent years doing odd jobs from barista to waitress, until you landed a job in your field – _Graphic Design_. That’s where you met your current roommate. She was a badass chick, covered from head to toe in tattoos. She was your complete opposite. You’d never even gotten an additional piercing (aside from those in your ears). You admired her uniqueness.

One random day, while you were getting dressed after a shower she noticed that you didn’t have any tattoos. You explained to her that you’d always wanted one but could ever decide what you wanted to brand yourself for life with. She tutted at your choice of wording and then spent days with you trying to narrow down all your interests. She was determined to find you the perfect tattoo.

It took at least six months before you were fully comfortable with the idea. You’d explained the type of tattoo you wanted, and she came back with sketches from a few different artists. Together you picked your top 3. From there it was about discovering which style you preferred over the others.

Finally, you settled on the simple depiction of the rose you desperately wanted. When you pointed to the artwork, your roommate raised her eyebrows, as if she was surprised at who you’d chosen to ink you. When you tried to question her about her reaction she laughed you off. She called the shop and set up the appointment. Now you had to wait another two weeks, agonizing about the whole ordeal.

**~(SOA)~**

... You stepped towards the shop and glanced around. The area seemed a bit grungy. You fought the urge to turn up your nose and gazed over at your friend. She grinned at you and beckoned you to follow after her.  You kept yourself on high alert, taking in everything around you. There was a bar attached to the shop, and about a dozen Harley’s parked out front. Your friend didn’t pause as she slipped past a few motorcycles and up to the front door.

You watched as she burst into the joint like she owned the place. You reminded yourself that she wouldn’t get you into any trouble. She was comfortable with the people here. It was out of your comfort zone but you trusted her judgement. You recalled when she noted the guy who was about to tattoo you was her go-to. He’d been the one to do most of the work on her. She told you that you were in very capable hands.

You walked in behind her and were immediately greeted by a man with a leather vest and blonde hair.

“Hey sweetheart.” He winked, “You lost?”

You scoffed prepared to give the assuming asshole a piece of your mind when your friend jumped in. 

“She’s with me.”

You glared at the blond as he turned towards your friend with a strange look.

“She’s the one he’s gonna be tattooing?”

Your friend chuckled and nodded, “Is he ready.”

The blond glanced back at you, before shaking his head and stepping around the counter, into the back room. You swallowed down your anger at the way he’d been speaking to you, and about you but now wasn’t the time to start spouting off at a stranger. You occupied your mind by admiring all the different shots of tattoos on the walls. They were all beautifully done. While you were caught up appreciating the different works of art, you were caught off guard by the sound of a new voice.

“Hey girl.” The voice greeted who you could only assume was your roommate, “Isn’t your appointment next month?”

The deep rasp triggered a familiarity in the back of your mind. You knew the man behind the reverb. You just couldn’t place his name, or his face.

“We’re still on for next month,” Your friend answered, “I’m just here accompanying my friend.”

You took this moment to turn around and were shocked to see who was standing next to your roommate. A person you never thought you’d see, or hear from again. Your eyebrows creased together as you stepped towards the group.

“Happy?” You asked, “Happy Lowman?”

All three heads snapped in your direction. The blond gaped at you knowing his name and your friend looked you up and down, reassessing her entire outlook of you. Her face coloured impressed. Clearly, she thought you to be a sheltered baby and now she was realizing there may be more to you than she originally thought.

Your gaze bounced from hers to Happy’s and you nearly dropped into a puddle of hormones on the floor. Happy’s dark eyes stared into you. He didn’t even try to hide his examination of you. His eyes dragged down your torso, and then back up your legs. You gulped, feeling as though he’d just undressed you in front of the entire shop.

“This your first time?” He finally spoke.

You cursed your body at the moment. The question and his gaze caused a gush of heat between your legs and you fought the urge to cross your them and whimper. He was gorgeous. How had you never noticed before? You let out a shaky breath, realizing that he was about to tattoo you in a place that called for you to be completely topless, no bra or anything.

You had to fight through the fog that had settled over your brain. You were now knee deep in vision of Happy’s bare hands caressing your naked body. That wasn’t how tattoos happened. Was it too late to back out? Where did all these feelings come from? _Shit._ You needed some air.

An arm slid around your shoulders and you jumped back into reality. Your breathing was heavy and Happy’s eyes were still glued to yours. You forced your breathing to level out but your heart rate remained elevated.

“You ready?” Your friend asked.

You blinked once before staring over at her.

Licking your lips, you nodded, “As I ever will be.”

She gave you a brilliant smile before thrusting her hand in the direction of the boy from the block – turned multiple orgasm worthy grown man. You shook yourself mentally. Now was not the time to turn into a mess of emotions. This was a time to focus on the task ahead.

As you approached the room, your friend detoured away from you, with a quick ‘I’ll be back.’ You stepped into the tiny room and approached the bench. Happy was already seated in his stool, laying out his ink wells, and ripping open a fresh new needle from its package.

Without so much as a glance at you he demanded, “Shirt off.”

“Excuse me?” You retorted voice with indignant attitude.

He stopped and his head inched up. You regretted your tone for a second as his face shifted through a paramount of feelings. The two you could readily identify were anger, and then arousal.

“I said,” He repeated, “Shirt off. Bra too.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, your fingers curling around the hem of your t-shirt. Once he was sure you were listening to him, he turned away, leaving you to undress.

“I see not much has changed.” You mumbled under your breath.

“I heard that.” He growled back, without stopping his preparation.

You rolled your eyes and flicked open the clasp of your bra. The cool air of the establishment hit your skin and goosebumps popped up all over. You shivered, wrapping your arms over your chest. You felt the need to cover, up. Save a shred of your dignity. You were already battling at keeping your hormones in check. The least you could do was keep your outward facing persona cool.

As an answer to a silent prayer you hadn’t recalled making, your roommate came through the door with three shot glasses and an unopened bottle of whiskey. Thank the _fucking_ lord. She poured the shots and instead of going for a glass you grabbed the bottle out of her hands. With one arm still covering your breasts, you knocked back the bottle of Jack.

“Shit.” You heard his rasp.

You finished swallowing, wiped your mouth with the back of your arm and glared at him. Drunk as a skunk. That was going to be the only way you made it through this. You noticed the empty shot glass in his hand but he was too busy staring at your heaving chest. His lips rolled together and his tongue ran along them as his eyes met yours again. You inhaled deeply, handed the bottle back to your friend and hopped up onto the bench.

“Let’s get this over with, Lowman.” You grit out.

You friend roared with laughter. She thought you were nervous about the needle. She didn’t need to know that you were nervous about being alone and half naked in a room with Happy _fucking_ Lowman. You couldn’t trust yourself at this time. All you wanted to do was jump the man in front of you.

There were a million different possibilities running through the forefront of your mind and each one ended the same. You screaming out his name. You let out a bitter laugh. What the middle school girls wouldn’t do to hear about you being here right now. This was every girl’s wet dream back then. You closed your eyes, flinging your free hand over your eyes.

“It’ll be fine.” You friend murmured, “I promise.” She kissed your forehead, “I’ll be out in the main room. Scream if you need me.”

You grimaced at her word choice, still fantasizing about Happy bringing you to that point. You gave her a curt nod and she warned Happy to take care of you. You laid on the table, waiting for the inevitable. You listened as Happy tinkered around. Without any warning his gloved hands traced your ribcage.

“Here?” He asked.

You dropped your arm, watching his fingers and nodded, “Yeah.”

He didn’t respond. He grabbed the stencil from his tray and positioned it first. One of his hands laid over yours and he guided you to pull your breast taut. You gulped at the close proximity. If only your hand wasn’t there.

You mimicked his command and he peeled the protective layer off your stencil. He pressed it into your skin, rubbing each crevice to make sure it transferred. He pulled it away with a gentle touch. You gazed down at where it was placed and pouted in approval.

This was it. This was really going to happen. He turned back to his tray, dipped the needle into the black ink well and flicked the switch. When the tattoo gun spurred to life you began to shake. Happy rolled towards you and placed a calming hand on your side.

“Breath.” He guided.

You loosened your grip on your chest, closed your eyes and breathed. The needle pierced your skin and you bit down on your lip. This was torture. You kept up a steady mantra in your head. Counting as high as you could in French. It was the only thing that distracted you enough not to twitch and moan in pain.

Happy never once said a word. After what felt like eighteen hours he broke away. You opened one eye to see him dipping his needle in more ink. When he rolled back to you, you prepared to close your eyes again but he stopped you.

“I’ll need to hold you for this part.” He informed.

You raised an eyebrow, confused, “What?”

He gave you a deadpanned expression and his hand hovered where your hand was. You stared down at your breast and then back up at him.

“Oh…” You breathed.

With reluctance you let your hand fall from your body. Happy’s jaw twitched as the loss of grip caused that certain body part to bounce slightly. You gulped at the expression of pure lust that filled his face. With the gun in one hand and his other one descending closer to your body, you shivered. His hand fit over your breast and you let out an unwanted but content sigh.

In response to his touch – _aside from your sigh_ – your hips bucked in the slightest movement and the both of you froze. This wasn’t how this was supposed to pan out. You needed reign yourself in. Happy’s jaw tightened as he stared you down. You could see his thoughts form into tangible scenarios before your eyes. Before either of you lost your control, you brought everything back to the present.

“Let’s get this over with.” You hissed through your teeth.

He snapped back to the job at hand and neither of you spoke another word.

**~(SOA)~**

Hours later, after two visits from your friend and one from the blond guy, Happy was finally finished.

“Get dressed.” He grumbled as he back away from you.

Your heart jumped into your throat as you sat up, “Can I see it at least?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. It was clear that he’d forgotten that most people wanted to see what their finished tattoos looked like. Without a glance at you, he pointed to the mirror at the back of the room. You slipped off the table and stepped up to the mirror.

Your fingers hovered over the fresh ink and you grinned. You loved it. It was gorgeous. The pain was definitely worth it. You chanced a glance at Happy through the mirror and you found him with his head down, cleaning his gear. He was giving you privacy. _How thoughtful._ You thought with a sarcastic air.

With a smirk you turned back to the chair next to the bed and grabbed at your bra. You turned your back to Happy and went to drape the straps over your shoulders and Happy’s hand tugged on the garment in your hand.

“Don’t.” He ordered.

Was he propositioning you? If he was, he was horrible at it. You yanked back on the bra and he huffed.

He pointed to your tattoo, “Not until it’s healed.”

You paused, connecting the dots and sighed. He reached for your shirt and handed it to you. Before you could pull it on he began fixing up the tattoo with the proper protection. He went through the whole process without ever letting his eyes stray from where his hands worked.

You kept your gaze trained on the wall in front of you. Avoidance was the best way to get through this. You waited with exaggerated patience and when he backed away again he gave you a nod of permission to put your shirt on. With your shirt covering you up and your bra clutched tightly in your hand you padded for the door. Your fingers circled around the doorknob.

Happy spoke from behind you, “Pay Kozik and used unscented cream.”

You nodded, attempting to open the door but just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You couldn’t let this once in a lifetime chance get away. You could hear his impatient movement as you remained in the room. Both of you were turned on. He’d been proper with you. Didn’t try anything. Not even when he was handling your chest. You bowed your head, squeezing your eyes shut. This was going to be quite the story to tell at the next high school reunion. You whirled around and Happy was staring at you.

“Hypothetically speaking,” You gestured between the two of you, “This could never work.”

His gaze remained steady, unsure of where you were headed.

“To be honest, I’m not sure what I’m expecting from this,” You took a step towards him, “But I’m not willing to let an opportunity like this pass.”

He remained rooted to his spot.

“Fair warning, I’m going to kiss you.” You dropped your bra onto the bench, “Here’s to hoping this leads to nowhere.”

He raised his eyebrows at you, a slight smirk growing. You grabbed his shoulders, tugging him forward and slammed your mouth against his. He growled at the contact and your body melted into his. Every nerve ending in your body sparked to life and you let out a whimper. _So much for this leading nowhere._

You tightened your grip on the leather vest he wore and pressed your chest flush against his. He walked you backwards until your back was flat against the door. His fingers tangled into your hair and he yanked your head backwards. You groaned at the sting and loss of his lips.

He dipped his head lower, biting your collarbone, “You grew up.”

“That tends to happen.” You gasped, rolling your eyes for two reasons.

You hooked one leg around his waist and rolled your lower body into his. He let out a grunt and without any qualms you began tearing at his clothes. His hands slid beneath your shirt and back to your breasts, careful to avoid the tender skin, cupping both.

“Happy…” You groaned.

At the worst possible moment, there was a knock on the door.

“Go away.” He shouted.

But it was too late. Both of you had pulled away from one another. You scanned the room for a fix. There was no way you’d be able to screw him here. Not now. Not when your friend was standing right outside the door.

“Marker?” You asked.

He gazed down at you, trying to figure out what you were doing. You gave him a small smile, and he leaned over. His body never leaving yours. He kept you trapped against the door, where you could feel the clear outline of his hardened lower half pressing into you.

You fought with your primal instincts. You could continue this at a later date. He grabbed the marker from the desk next to you both. He handed it to you and you ripped the top off. You grabbed his arm, extended it and began to scribble your phone number across his forearm. He let out a dark chuckle when he realized what you were doing.

You pushed him away from you, “We. Will. Finish. This.”

You ground out each word with conviction. This was not over. He ambushed you again, his lips bruising yours and you reveled in the feeling.

Another knock sounded and your friend yelled, “Is everything alright in there?”

You pulled away from each other for the million time. You patted your hair down, and turned to the door. You turned the doorknob and cracked the door open. Your roommate eyed you for a second before a wide grin crossed her face. She knew exactly what had happened. You stepped out into the hallway.

You glanced at Happy over your shoulder, “I mean it.”

He looked down at the number on his arm and you knew he knew exactly what you were talking about.


End file.
